


I'll leave my room open 'til sunrise for you

by phanjessmagoria



Series: But I'm always wanting you [2]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: (as in they get pierced in the fic), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Piercings, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 18:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6530800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phanjessmagoria/pseuds/phanjessmagoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It briefly dawned on him that he really hadn’t needed to bring his board, that maybe Michael had just wanted to mess around the whole time, but he didn’t let that bother him either, because Michael’s hands were warm on his body, pushing his shirt up an inch or so to let his thumbs drag over Calum’s exposed hipbones. He smiled against Michael’s mouth, reaching between them to unzip the hoodie just a little, tugging the loosened collar away so he could kiss Michael’s neck, sucking a bruise into the crook where his throat met his shoulder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll leave my room open 'til sunrise for you

Michael rolled over—or rather, he started to, but stopped halfway, because he could already tell that the sheets that Calum had hung over the windows were trapped beneath his body again, and if he moved any further, he’d pull them down. (Again.)

Which wasn’t really a huge problem, except that accidentally pulling the makeshift curtains down would result in the pushpins holding them up to fall onto the futon, which was not ideal ever, but especially not when he and Calum were lying on it in varying states of undress.

So Michael rolled back the other way and tugged the fabric out from beneath him—until he heard the clatter of his cell phone falling behind the futon and hitting the floor. The screen was already cracked in the bottom left corner, so that probably made it even worse, and he let out a huge sigh.

“What’s the matter?” Calum asked, voice thick with sleep. Michael had woken him with all his fidgeting and huffing and puffing.

“Nothing,” Michael answered, pressing his face into his boyfriend’s back, hoping maybe the even beating of Calum’s heartbeat would help to lull him to sleep.

“Are you sure?” Calum wheedled, obviously not buying it. He shifted a little away from Michael, just so he could turn himself over and look at him. It was late, or maybe early—the sky was just beginning to fade from black to a deep cerulean, but the streetlights outside were still burning orange pinpricks into the sheets covering the windows. Calum was never able to decide what time “late” became “early” in the wee hours of the morning, but he pushed the thought aside—he had more pressing matters to deal with, like how his boyfriend was pouting at him. “What is it?” he asked again.

“I can’t sleep,” Michael mumbled, turning away from Calum to bury his face in a pillow.

“Do you feel all right?” Calum asked, lifting one hand from underneath the afghan blanket thrown over both of them to put his hand on Michael’s cheek, not really feeling for his temperature but just wanting to touch him in some way.

“I’m just…” Michael considered how he wanted to phrase it. “Blah. I’m hot and your stupid sheet curtains are fucking with me.”

“So kick the blanket off,” Calum said, tugging on it so it slid partly off Michael, who pulled it back.

“Then I’ll be cold,” he muttered, and Calum laughed. Sometimes Michael was so high-maintenance he could barely handle it.

“So what do you propose we do?” Calum moved his hand back, threading his fingers through Michael’s freshly-dyed lime green hair.

“Let’s go for a walk,” Michael suggested.

Calum sighed—though he wasn’t completely opposed just yet. “What time is it?”

Michael shrugged one shoulder. “I dunno. I dropped my phone behind the futon. Also, can we move the futon so I can get my phone?”

“You’re unbelievable,” Calum said, but he was smiling. He leaned forward to press a kiss against Michael’s lips, then pushed himself up to a sitting position with a short groan. Michael was right—it was chilly in his room without the blanket. He stood up from the unfolded couch, adjusted his package in the front of his boxers, and then looked back at Michael, who was still lying down. “Are we moving the futon or not?”

“I was admiring your physique,” Michael said, but crawled over to the edge of the futon anyway and stood up, batting away Calum’s hand; he was trying to forcibly cover Michael’s mouth so he wouldn’t say any more cheesy shit like that.

With neither of them laying on the futon anymore, it was incredibly light—just a shitty uncomfortable cushion and a light frame which Calum shifted out of the way so Michael could nip behind it and pick up his phone. It was covered in dust bunnies, but after some careful examination, he was able to determine that the screen hadn’t cracked further.

“Can we go back to sleep now?” Calum asked, glancing over at Michael, who looked like maybe he was shivering in his underwear and oversized t-shirt, which was hanging off one shoulder.

“I thought we were going for a walk,” Michael said, pouting, his expression just barely visible in the light from his phone.

“What time is it?” Calum asked again, and Michael glanced down at his phone, then back up at Calum with what he hoped was a grin adorable enough to get Calum to agree to do anything with him. “Well?” Calum pushed.

“Just after 6,” Michael said, trying to keep his voice light.

“Michaelllllll.”

“Oh, come on! I go to the skate park with you whenever you want to, you can’t come for a walk with me just this once?”

Calum met Michael’s hopeful grin with a stony look of his own. “We _met_ at the skate park, because you like going there, of your own free will. It’s too early to go for a walk, Mikey.” He sat back down on the futon cushion.

“What if we walked to the skate park?” Michael suggested, grinning at Calum like he’d never proposed such a brilliant idea.

“If I say yes will you let me take a nap when we get back?”

“Yes,” Michael said, though he wasn’t actually sure he was ready to promise any such thing.

“Fine,” Calum said. He crossed the room to a dresser he’d invested in recently; before, his clothes had been bunched up and pushed into the milk crates that his TV was sitting on, but now, he had a dresser. With _actual drawers_. It was almost like he was a real adult.

Calum pulled a long-sleeved thermal shirt out of the middle drawer to combat the low temperature of the early morning, then straightened up, leaving the drawer open for Michael to pick through, even though Calum felt pretty sure he would opt to steal one of his hoodies to wear on their walk. Sure enough, as soon as he vacated the area in front of the dresser, Michael swooped in and began shifting clothes around.

Crossing the room, Calum opened the door at the top of the stairs, which he supposed was meant to be a coat closet but that he used to hang regular clothes in—he only had one coat, which didn’t even really count as a coat: a denim jacket that Michael had given him, covered in patches and featuring a plethora of pins. He reached around the jacket to pull out a pair of jeans, then carried them with him to the bathroom to dress himself after brushing his teeth.

As soon as he rinsed his mouth and turned off the tap, Michael pushed the door open and pointed at the sink. “Can I?”

Calum nodded as he stepped into the jeans, tugging them up around his hips as Michael squeezed some toothpaste onto the spare toothbrush Calum had given him. As he brushed his teeth, Calum buttoned and zipped the jeans, then shrugged on the shirt. Michael was blocking his way out of the bathroom—it really wasn’t built for two people at once—so he waited until Michael rinsed his mouth and straightened up to step closer. He wrapped his arms around Michael’s waist under the pretense of moving him out of the room, but instead, pressed his lips to Michael’s neck and buried his nose in Michael’s hair, closing his eyes and squeezing him close.

Michael laughed quietly and leaned into Calum—neither of them looked like the overly affectionate type, with all their hair dye and hard edges, but each of them was a total sucker for the other, and they both knew it. Hell, anyone who spent more than five minutes with the pair of them knew it.

“Ready to go?” Calum asked, moving his hands down to rest, fingers laced together, on Michael’s hip. He’d put his jeans back on, but was still shirtless.

“Can I borrow a hoodie? Maybe the Chili Peppers one,” Michael said, turning so he was facing Calum, instead of letting Calum press against his side.

“Sure,” Calum said, pressing his nose into Michael’s cheek before giving him a swift kiss on the line of his jawbone and releasing him. “Bottom drawer.”

Michael threw a grin at Calum over his shoulder as he walked back across the room. The sun had begun to rise outside, and the room was brighter than it had been just a few minutes prior. Calum wandered back out to the closet, choosing a pair of shoes to wear. “Am I bringing my board?” he asked as he squatted down for a moment to snatch a pair of sneakers from the back of the closet.

“Sure,” Michael said, and Calum grabbed that too before straightening up, slipping his feet into the shoes and kneeling back down to tie them. By the time he stood, skateboard dangling from his fingertips, Michael was beside him, grinning, the hood up and nearly covering his eyes.

Calum laughed and reached out to tug on one of the drawstrings, tightening the hood around Michael’s face. They both laughed as he fixed it, following Calum down the stairs.

“Maybe Raúl can make us some breakfast burritos,” Michael said as they passed the door to the kitchen of the taco stand.

“I wouldn’t want to be the guy to wake him up at 6 in the morning,” Calum replied, leading Michael outside and locking the door to the small foyer behind them.

Out on the sidewalk, in the sun, it didn’t feel as nippy as Calum would have thought—but then, now he was fully clothed and awake. He smiled to himself, turning his face toward where the sun’s rays were peeking between buildings and trees, until Michael’s hand slipped into his, their arms coiled together. “Let’s go,” he whispered to Calum, and they set off toward the skate park.

There were some people out and about, though not many, and they only saw one car on the road during their walk outside of town. The skate park was absolutely abandoned, and the front gate had been closed and locked. Calum hadn’t even known that the park apparently had hours of operation, much less someone who came and closed the gate. Fortunately, the fence wasn’t too high. He turned to Michael and proffered his skateboard.

“Hold this,” he said. Michael took the board and managed, “What are you—” before Calum had turned away and swung himself over the fence, landing perfectly on his feet. Michael gaped at him, but before Calum could turn back and see his face, he rearranged his features into what he hoped was a confident smirk that said he believed he could do just what Calum had done, even though he had his doubts about that. He had all of the doubts.

Calum held his hands out for the skateboard, which Michael passed to him, over the fence. Even after watching Calum hop over the chainlink, it still seemed intimidating. Calum took a couple steps backward to give Michael room. “Come on,” he said, giving him a smile.

“Um,” Michael intoned. He pushed the hood back off his head so he could concentrate, then stepped toward the fence and placed his hands on the horizontal railing, like Calum had done, but stopped there.

“What?” Calum asked, and there was just a slight teasing inflection to his voice. “Never hopped a fence before?”

“We can’t all be former juvenile delinquents,” Michael said, and Calum laughed, then put down his board and stepped closer.

“Ok, just brace yourself like that,” he explained, covering Michael’s hands with his own. “Then pull yourself up and swing your legs over. It’s easy.”

“I can already see myself faceplanting spectacularly into the concrete,” Michael said, frowning.

“Dude, you’re making this a way bigger deal than it needs to be. I’ll catch you.”

Michael was prepared to make another joke, but when he looked up and met Calum’s eyes, he actually believed that Calum would catch him if he started to fall.

“Ok. Back up,” Michael said. Calum moved back, but Michael held up his hand to stop him. “Not too far.”

Calum laughed again, but nodded, staying within a small enough range that he could at least stop Michael from hitting the ground if he had to.

“Don’t kick me,” Calum said, teasing again, and Michael smirked.

“Oh, I’ll try not to,” he said, voice brimming with sarcasm. He was almost laughing, truth be told—he was about to hop a fence.

He did as Calum told him—pushed himself up and simultaneously kicked off of the sidewalk. His foot landed flat on the top rail of the fence. Now he was just stuck, one leg dangling with him half-crouching on top of the fence.

“Come on,” Calum said, and he wasn’t teasing at all this time, just encouraging. “Push yourself over. I’ve seen your thighs—I know they’ve got it in them.”

“Oh my god, now is not the time,” Michael said, but he again did as Calum told him. He pushed himself up and over the fence—his only concern was making sure that both of his legs cleared and then that both of his feet were below him as his body righted itself in the air. He landed on his feet, but overestimated his balance and fell forward.

Calum, true to his word, caught Michael, his arms wrapping around him and keeping him from falling. He was laughing, and before Michael realized it, he found that he was laughing too, and then he was steady on his feet again and Calum was kissing him, both of them smiling against each other’s mouths. Calum’s hands were pressed tight against Michael’s back, holding him upright even though he didn’t need to anymore, so Michael mirrored him, moving his arms around Calum just the same.

Neither of them pulled away to break the kiss, but neither did they make any move to go further just yet. They stood together, the sun warming them slowly as it peeked over trees, and Calum curled his hands into fists in the back of his hoodie, too big for Michael; it draped loosely around him.

“Let’s go over there,” Michael said, mumbling the words against Calum’s lips. He was indicating the halfpipe, even though Calum couldn’t see where he was pointing.

“Ok,” Calum agreed, despite not knowing where Michael meant, and stepped away to grab his skateboard before letting Michael pull him toward the back of the park. Michael hopped up onto the structure, his feet dangling over the side, but instead of sitting beside him, Calum fit himself between Michael’s legs, his lips finding Michael’s again, and this time, the kiss was more than just a kiss; it was meant to start something.

Michael moved his hands to Calum’s hips, pulling him as close as he could and letting their fronts rest together. He swiped his tongue across Calum’s lower lip, and Calum parted them for him, breathing Michael in as he let his hands rest on the outside of Michael’s thighs. It was stupidly early, but Calum couldn’t really allow himself to regret letting Michael drag him out here, because he was with Michael, in a place he loved, losing himself in his boyfriend’s kiss.

It briefly dawned on him that he really hadn’t needed to bring his board, that maybe Michael had just wanted to mess around the whole time, but he didn’t let that bother him either, because Michael’s hands were warm on his body, pushing his shirt up an inch or so to let his thumbs drag over Calum’s exposed hipbones. He smiled against Michael’s mouth, reaching between them to unzip the hoodie just a little, tugging the loosened collar away so he could kiss Michael’s neck, sucking a bruise into the crook where his throat met his shoulder.

Michael sighed softly, angling his head away to give Calum more room, loving the feeling of his mouth on him, and moved his own hand between their bodies as well—though he was aiming to unbutton Calum’s jeans. Calum allowed him—it was early enough. No one was around or would be for hours, probably. Not that it mattered—Calum found that he was never able to deny Michael something he wanted. And when that something involved his dick, he was usually on board 100%.

Michael had moved on from unbuttoning Calum’s jeans to trying to work the zipper down, his wrist angled awkwardly. Calum knew he could get it on his own—he’d done more in less space before—and focused on getting Michael out of his jeans. He took half a step backward, returning the smile Michael gave him as thanks for the extra room, and pushed Michael’s thighs open a little bit more, lifting the hoodie up out of his way and flicking the button open on Michael’s pants, tugging the zipper down. Calum tried to shimmy the waistband down over his hips, but Michael was focusing on pushing Calum’s pants down and was giving him literally no room to maneuver the denim.

“Wait,” Calum said. Michael ignored him, and Calum smirked to himself, unsure if he actually expected Michael to listen, but knowing that if he had, he was really an idiot. “Michael,” he tried again, moving his hands from Michael’s thighs to cover his wrists. That still didn’t stop him. “Yours first. Mine are the easy ones,” Calum insisted.

Still, Michael persisted until he was able to pull Calum closer to him again by the hips and move his hands over his ass, sliding them under the fabric of his underwear.

“I can’t be the only one with my pants down,” Calum said, catching Michael’s lips in a kiss to hopefully distract him. He leaned back a little, moving his hands back down over Michael’s back, tugging the hoodie out of the way and trying to move the denim a little further down around Michael’s hips—not all the way, or even a lot; just enough to get his dick out.

Finally, Michael gave him the assistance he needed. He wiggled his hips out of his jeans, pushing the waistband of his boxer-briefs down out of the way and pulling his half-hard dick out, flinching a little at the temperature difference now that he was exposed.

Calum’s hand moved to join Michael’s as he stroked himself, fingertips teasing the head as Michael stroked his length, hand loosely wrapped around himself.

“Love watching you touch yourself,” Calum mumbled, his lips against Michael’s cheek, head angled just enough that he could watch Michael slowly jerk himself off.

“Love touching you,” Michael said in response, managing to force himself to pull his hand away from his cock and reach for Calum instead, rolling the elastic of his underwear down too. Michael licked his lip when he saw Calum, chubbed up for him. Calum had moved his hand lower to wrap around Michael, but wasn’t moving except to tease the slit in the head of his dick with his thumb, rubbing flat over it in circles. Michael was already just a little breathless, but he wouldn’t let Calum distract him—he wanted to feel the weight of Calum’s dick in his hand, to stroke him off and make him just as short of breath, to watch Calum come undone in his hand, body pressed against him, whimpering Michael’s name in his ear as he came hard, leaving a streak of his own semen on his jacket.

Michael moved his hand over Calum’s length, quicker than Calum was touching him. He whined for more, turning his head and kissing Michael again, begging wordlessly by kissing him, needy and wanting. Calum licked Michael’s lower lip, and Michael opened his mouth to let Calum’s tongue swipe against his own as they both fell into different rhythms, their hands working over each other. Screwing around outside had never crossed either of their minds, but now that they were doing it, it really did seem like the next step after hopping a fence in terms of “Things They Probably Shouldn’t Be Doing.”

The sound of skin whispering over skin was drowned out only by the soft sounds of their kissing, of Calum sighing Michael’s name softly into his mouth, of Michael humming softly back at him, making sure Calum knew how much he loved what they were doing. Calum was still moving slowly, focusing most of his efforts on teasing the head of Michael’s cock, letting beads of precome seep slowly down over the tip before smearing it up and down his length, the slick, wet sounds just lewd enough to turn Calum on even more. Michael was a bit less subtle; he was jerking Calum off quickly, his hand tight around him, covering his entire length as fast as possible, using friction to get Calum off.

Calum panted a breath against Michael’s lips, tilting his face down to lean their foreheads together, his nose resting against Michael’s. He met Michael’s eyes for a moment, taking in how his green eyes were boring into Calum’s brown ones, before he lowered his gaze, watching their fists move around each other’s cocks. Michael leaned a little back from Calum, lowering his face to his neck, kissing him softly, lips barely trailing over his soft skin and giving him a ridiculously arousing contrast between the firmness of his grip around his dick and the speed at which he was jerking him off, and the gentle kisses he was placing on his neck. Calum groaned Michael’s name loudly, his voice cracking and trailing off as he bucked his hips forward into Michael’s hand.

Michael huffed a short laugh, pleased with himself. He loved being able to pull Calum apart and then put him back together just with his touch. Calum’s thumb was slipping across the tip of his dick, and he felt a tightness in his abdomen that told him that he was about to come, but he wanted to make sure Calum was close, too. His tongue flitted over the side of Calum’s neck before he raised his head, doing the same to Calum’s ear.

“I want you to come for me,” Michael said, voice low but distinctly serious. Calum nodded, jerking his hips forward again.

“You too,” he managed to get out, nodding again, totally unaware of his actions; he was so wrapped up in Michael that he could only lean further into him, trapping their hands between their bodies and restricting their movements somewhat—though it didn’t matter much because they were both teetering over the edge, both about to come in each other’s hands.

Michael broke first; he parted his legs even further and moved his free hand to grasp at Calum’s lower back, his ass, pulling him closer and burying his face in Calum’s neck, gasping his name repeatedly as he shot come all over Calum’s hip and stomach. Calum turned his head, pressing his lips against Michael’s hair as he rutted forward into the tight circle his hand made around his dick, the closeness allowing the head of his dick to rub against the fabric of his hoodie. The added friction of that was what got him; he came, hard, body stuttering as he did. Michael held Calum close until his body relaxed, and once he did, Michael lifted his head and kissed Calum, deep and meaningful; not a beginning, this time, but a conclusion.

–

“I am _taking_ a _nap_ and _you can’t stop me_ ,” Calum said, stripping off his dirty shirt and tossing it somewhere behind him—he’d pick it up later...or the next time he had to do laundry.

“But I’m not tired,” Michael said, unzipping the Chili Peppers hoodie and doing the same with it. It landed in a heap on top of a pile of junk mail.

“I didn’t say you had to take a nap,” Calum said, unzipping his jeans, kicking off his sneakers, and undressing down to his underwear as quickly as possible. It was just after 8 in the morning—their romp in the skate park had gone on to escalate pretty quickly until a couple walking their dog spotted them, relentlessly catcalling and whistling at them until they clued in and covered up.

“Well, what am I going to do, then?” Michael asked as Calum pushed the futon back into its spot and climbed onto it, tugging the afghan blanket up over him.

“You could go home until I wake up,” Calum suggested, voice muffled by his pillow.

“Can I just lay with you?” Michael asked, not even willing to entertain another option.

“If you mean _actually_ laying with me, and not trying to get at my dick again,” Calum said, eyes squeezed shut, like the harder he pressed the lids together, the quicker he’d fall asleep.

“No promises,” Michael said, kicking off his shoes and clambering onto the futon beside Calum. He slipped beneath the blanket and snuggled up to Calum’s back—he wasn’t trying to be the big spoon, he was just trying to steal Calum’s body heat—and rested his forehead against Calum’s back again, closing his eyes. Calum shifted a little; Michael’s eyelashes were tickling him.

It didn’t take long for Calum to drift off; his breathing deepened quickly, and the even rhythm also began to lull Michael back to sleep. He was out before he even realized that it was happening.

–

“Today is boring, and I want to go do something fun.”

Calum opened his eyes slowly, having been woken up from what he could tell would have been an incredibly fulfilling nap if given the time to mature and grow into a fully-fledged period of sleep. But Michael sometimes got into moods where he wanted to be in constant motion, always up and on the go, needing to fill his time with something more than just regular day-to-day happenings, and apparently, he was in one such mood right now.

“I was sleeping,” Calum said, wondering if maybe this was a dream and he could just slip right back under, letting the scene change to something other than his boyfriend waking him up.

“Yeah. So was I. It's just, now I'm even more bored,” Michael said.

Definitely not a dream. Calum rolled onto his back, squinting a little at the brightness of his room. Michael had moved one of the bedsheets aside and was silhouetted against the window, the sun fully up now, his legs resting on top of Calum’s, as he played a game on his phone.

Calum rubbed his eyes but stayed flat on his back. “What do you want to do?” he asked.

"We could do anything and I'd be happy," Michael replied, and Calum wasn't sure he believed that, but at least it left the decision-making up to Michael.

"Then pick something," Calum said. He sat up, letting Michael's legs remain in his lap, curling his hands around Michael's calves and squeezing gently.

"I think I should finally take you to get that piercing you've been talking about for the last four months," Michael said, expression suddenly devious, and Calum gave him a look.

"Ok, _you_ don't have to take me to do anything," Calum said—but the thought was actually somewhat intriguing. He'd mentioned that he wanted to get his septum pierced to Michael a few times since they began dating. The green-haired boy had latched onto the idea, but Calum kept putting it off for one reason or another. First it was that he'd wanted to save up for another tattoo (which he still hadn’t gotten), then it was that his mother told him he would ruin his handsome face (not that he took her complaints too seriously, but he felt guilty just thinking about it after she expressed her displeasure). The most recent reason not to get his nose pierced was something silly, like that he'd heard septum piercings weren't cool anymore ("Since when do you care about what's cool?" had been Michael's response, as he gestured to himself to make his point).

"Well, then, take yourself and I'll go with you," Michael replied, moving his leg a little as if to nudge Calum's hand. "I'll get something pierced too," he continued, like this would be the big sell that made Calum decide to go.

"What something?" Calum asked, studying Michael like he could guess just by looking at him.

Michael shrugged. "I'll decide when we get there," he said, but he was wearing a smirk that made it clear he already had something in mind. He pulled his legs back, out of Calum's hold, and pushed his feet flat against Calum's hip, trying to push him and get him to move.

“All right, ok— _ok_ , I’m getting up,” Calum said, voice growing slightly more urgent as Michael actually began moving him over toward the edge of the futon.

Calum turned and rested his feet on the floor, standing up and stretching before picking his jeans up from where he’d dropped them next to the futon. He stepped into them as he made his way back over to the dresser, this time choosing a red t-shirt to wear and shrugging it on, wiping some more sleep from his eyes with his right hand as he smoothed the hem of the shirt down with his left.

“Can I borrow a shirt?” Michael asked, and Calum reached into the drawer, picked up the first one he touched, and tossed it over his shoulder for Michael, who pulled it on as Calum slipped his feet into his sneakers again.

Together, they made their way back downstairs, Calum yawning (mostly for effect) as he locked the door behind them. Michael rolled his eyes, not buying it for a second.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing Calum’s arm by the elbow and pulling him away from the door, as Calum hooked the carabiner holding his keychain to his beltloop.

“You’re in such a rush,” Calum said.

“I’m bored,” Michael replied, looking over at him before letting his hand move down from Calum’s elbow to hold his hand instead. 

Calum smiled as Michael’s hand fit into his; they walked down the sidewalk to the bus stop a few streets away, which would take them a bit further uptown to the tattoo and piercing shop they needed to get to.

“What are you gonna get?” Calum asked, shifting his hand a little and letting his fingers move between Michael’s, tickling his palm with his thumb. Michael pulled his hand as far away from Calum’s as he could without actually letting go of it, keeping their fingers laced.

“I don’t know,” Michael said, but he was grinning.

Calum leaned over and pressed his nose into Michael’s cheek, giving him a quick kiss there before pulling away. “I think you do.”

“I’m not telling. It’s a surprise. But you’ll like it—I promise.” His grin morphed into a smirk, and Calum shook his head, trying not to let himself imagine too much.

The bus arrived a few minutes late, as per usual, and they climbed on; Michael showed his bus pass and headed toward the back to choose a seat, but Calum paid the fare and followed him. He’d chosen to sit in the last available row, across the bench seat that took up the entire width of the bus. Fortunately, the bus only had three other people on it: an elderly woman reading a book and what looked like a young teenage boy with his little sister—so it wouldn’t matter that Michael liked to sprawl across as much of the bench seat as possible, taking up nearly all of it with as tall as he was.

Calum squeezed in beside Michael and the wall of the bus. Michael immediately shifted, turning his body so that he was sitting with his legs stretched out across the seat, leaning back against Calum, who lifted his arm and placed it around Michael, holding him. “Comfortable?” Calum asked.

“Sure am,” Michael replied, leaning his head back to look up at Calum as he slid further down the seat.

“Good,” Calum said, smiling down at his boyfriend, letting his hand splay out on his chest; he didn’t need to, but he liked to think he was helping Michael not fall off the narrow seat.

The brother and sister got off the bus after two stops, the little girl skipping down the steps. The old woman appeared to have either fallen asleep or was a terribly slow reader, because she hadn’t turned a page of her book in several minutes. Finally, Calum gently nudged Michael to move off of him so he could reach up to tug the wire, signaling the driver to let them off. He pulled over at the next stop; Calum stood and waited patiently for Michael to get off his ass before walking over to the door and disembarking.

“It’s down the next street?” Michael asked, trying to get his bearings, as Calum nodded and pointed.

“Two blocks that way,” he said, indicating the way the bus had come from. As they ambled down the sidewalk together, Michael looked over at Calum; he could tell he was a little tense, probably because he was finally about to get the piercing he’d been considering for months.

“You ok?” Michael asked as they reached the corner they’d have to turn down; he could still change his mind and Michael wouldn’t care. He might go get what he wanted pierced, though. Calum would _really_ like it if he did. For sure.

“Yeah,” Calum said, putting on a smile, though it was just a touch forced.

“Nervous?” Michael asked.

Calum shrugged, which Michael took to mean “Yes.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Michael said.

Calum gave him a smile, which was a bit more convincing than the previous one. “Ok, yeah. And—what are you getting?”

“You’ll see after I get it,” Michael said, leaving Calum’s side and walking down the sidestreet until they reached the right storefront. It was bigger on the inside than it looked from the outside, but that may have been because of all of the artwork painted on the front, beneath the sign hung above the entrance and front window that just read “TATTOO” in plain writing. The window was covered in drawings too, painted right on the glass, around the words “Tattoo - Piercing - Walk-Ins Welcome!”

Michael pulled the door open and stepped inside first, with Calum trailing after him. The inside was bright and clean, with the walls painted the unusual choice of mint green, though much of it was obscured by framed art hanging on the walls. The pair stepped up to the counter.

One of the artists, all his visible skin covered in tattoos save for his face, looked up from where he was sitting, flipping through a magazine. “Can I help you guys?” he asked, nodding toward them.

“Yeah,” Michael said. “My friend here wants to get his septum pierced.” He raised his arm and clapped Calum on the shoulder, hard enough that his arm moved forward a little. Calum gave an awkward smile to the man behind the counter.

“All right,” he said, putting down his magazine and standing up. “Give me one minute.” He gave them a half-smile and walked past them, out from behind the counter, heading into the back room. He reappeared after a brief moment, returning to his chair and picking up his magazine.

“She’ll be right out,” he said, flipping back to the page he’d left off.

“Thanks,” Michael said, as Calum pulled one of the black portfolio books over to himself. It was filled with tattoos—which wasn’t really what he was looking for, since he was going to be getting pierced—and looked through it.

Michael stepped to the side, behind Calum, leaning against his back and looking over his shoulder at the photographs of the tattoos, until they heard a voice.

“Hi, someone wants to get something pierced?”

They both looked up; the man behind the counter, without looking up from his magazine, jerked his thumb toward Calum and Michael.

“Hi,” the girl repeated; her hair was dyed lavender and she was wearing a black knit shawl, covering almost her entire body except for leggings that looked like outer space and a pair of black platform combat boots. “I’m Violet,” she said, stepping around the counter to approach them. She held her hand out for a shake.

“Michael,” he said, taking her hand, then stepping away so Calum could introduce himself as well.

“I’m Calum,” he said, trying to smile—now that Violet was here, ready to stick a needle through his nose, things were getting really fucking...real.

“Septum, right?” she asked Calum, and he nodded.

“Yeah,” he confirmed.

“And I want to get something,” Michael said. “Not totally sure what yet, though.”

“That’s cool,” Violet said, smiling at both of them. She turned to the man behind the counter. “Hey, Vic, can I get two clipboards?”

In a way that told everyone looking he’d done it countless times before, Vic reached beneath the counter without even looking and slapped first one, then two clipboards onto the counter, both with a paper and pen already underneath the metal clamp at the top.

“Thanks,” she said (he hummed in response), and turned back to Calum and Michael. “I just need you both to fill these out. I’ll go set up for you, Calum—Michael, figure out what you want to get.” She gave him a smirk before turning on her heel and walking away toward the back again.

The two of them scribbled their answers down on the paper—Michael was trying to finish before Calum, like it was a competition, but only in his own mind. Calum purposely wrote a bit slower so Michael could “win,” and sure enough, when Michael finished the second side of the page first, he gave Calum a smug smile. Calum didn’t look up from where he was looking over the list of medical ailments, but he smiled too. He liked letting Michael win at things—his reactions were always adorable.

Calum signed the bottom of the page just as Violet emerged from the back again. “Calum?” she asked, beckoning him closer. He stood. “Come on back,” she said. “I’m just going to need your ID.”

She led him into a small room; the walls were the same mint green, though there wasn’t as much artwork hanging up. Calum pulled his wallet from his pocket, slipping his ID out and handing it to Violet. She took it and stepped back out of the room.

“I’ll be right back. Sit down, make yourself comfortable,” she said, gesturing to the seat behind him, then disappeared around the doorframe.

Back at the front of the shop, Michael was sitting, watching Vic as he kept flipping through his magazine. Whatever he was reading, it must have been enthralling, since he didn’t look up once. Michael crossed his legs at the ankle in front of him, tugging down the hem of the shirt Calum had given him. He was a little bit bigger than Calum, so he wasn’t sure the garment fit him right, even though Calum always said he liked seeing Michael wearing his clothes, which always made Michael stop second-guessing himself, at least.

Calum emerged from the back room after just another few minutes, Violet trailing after him. Michael hurried to get to his feet, catching the tail end of Violet explaining the aftercare of the piercing to him. Michael grinned at the sight of Calum with a barbell nestled in his nose, walking forward to reach him sooner and get a better look at it.

“You look so good,” Michael said, putting his hands on Calum’s arms, pulling him closer to look at his nose. “I love it.”

Calum grinned—any apprehension he felt prior had dissipated now; now, he was thrilled that he’d gone through with it.

“Michael,” Violet said, looking at him expectantly. “You’re up. Did you make a decision?”

Michael grinned, dodging Calum's inquisitive look. "Yeah," he said.

Violet nodded, then gestured for him to follow her. "Come on, then. Bring the clipboard. And I'll need your ID."

They set off toward the back room again, and Violet instructed Michael to wait in the hall as she wiped down the chair Calum had been sitting in.

"So, what're you thinking?" Violet asked, moving over to a cabinet above a sink, opening it, but not removing anything yet.

"Tongue," Michael answered, with no hesitation.

Violet smiled and pulled a new needle and barbell out of the cabinet, setting them down and then turning to Michael. "ID," she said, and he proffered the card to her. She took it, and continued, as she left the room, "Sit down, I'll be right back."

–

"Done. How do you feel?" Violet asked, voice gentle as Michael swallowed, his tongue still sticking out of his mouth. She had just finished screwing on the ball to the barbell she'd fit through his tongue.

"Nng," he answered, not actually moving any part of his mouth, but he gave her a thumbs up.

Violet smirked to herself, shaking her head; this kid was a piece of work. "All right. As long as you don't feel dizzy or lightheaded, we can go back up."

Michael retracted his tongue and closed his mouth, trying to get used to the feeling of the metal bar in his mouth, of the added weight through the muscle. He stood up off the chair and grinned at himself in the mirror, sticking his tongue out and admiring the piercing.

"I'll get you the aftercare sheet, and one for Calum, too," she said, pulling the gloves off and throwing them out. "Also, I just have to stress this: No kissing, and obviously, no oral sex."

Even though Michael should have had the foresight to think of that, it still definitely sucked to hear it said so plainly. He frowned—and Violet spotted him in the mirror.

"Can't budge on that," she said. "Sorry." She didn't sound sorry at all.

"It's all good," Michael said, even though he clearly did not think it was all good. "Thanks." He tried to keep the disappointment in himself at being so stupid as to not realize that would probably be the most important stipulation of a tongue piercing out of his voice.

"I'm sure your boyfriend will love it," Violet said, and Michael looked back at her, over his shoulder.

"You think so?" he asked, grinning at the prospect—and also that she knew Calum was his boyfriend. It always made him smile when people knew it without them saying so.

"Definitely," she said, laughing, and walked with him back up to the front of the shop.

–

Calum stood as Michael and Violet came into view. He did a quick once-over of Michael, but nothing seemed different at first glance. He wondered if he would have to wait until they were back in the privacy of his apartment to see what he'd gotten pierced, but before he could even open his mouth to say anything, Michael stuck his tongue out at Calum.

Calum's jaw dropped. He hadn't expected that, at all, and he couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh my god," he said. "That looks like it hurt."

Michael shrugged and walked over to Calum, tucking his face into his shoulder for a second before nodding, so hopefully Violet and Vic wouldn't see it. "It did a little."

"Aw," Calum said, lifting his hand to gently pet Michael's hair for a moment before he nodded to Violet. "So—what do we owe you?" He pulled his wallet out of his pocket again, stepping forward to pay.

–

Calum went immediately to the bathroom when they got back to his apartment, wanting to examine his piercing again. Michael trailed after him, resting against the door behind Calum as he leaned over the sink, checking out the jewelry in his nose.

"I have some bad news," Michael said, frowning. Calum met his eyes over his shoulder in the mirror.

"What?" Calum asked; he turned to hop up onto the edge of the sink, pulling Michael closer by tugging on his shirt. He hummed softly as he let his hands move over Michael's chest. "I love you in my clothes," Calum said, absently—the bad news forgotten.

"Tongue piercing means we can't do anything. No oral sex or anything until it heals." Michael scowled, and it was a testament to how annoyed he was that he wasn't even acknowledging Calum's hands on him.

"Oh," Calum said, stopping groping him and meeting his eyes. "Shit, really?"

"Yeah," Michael said, and Calum's apparent disappointment just put him into an even worse mood.

"That sucks," Calum said, "but—"

"This is bullshit. I can't even kiss you."

Calum's expression softened. He lifted his hand to Michael's hair. "We can do other stuff, Mikey," he said, stroking his hair softly, pushing it back and away from where it was covering his eyes.

"Other stuff," Michael scoffed. "Like what?"

"Well, you're the only one who can't do oral," Calum said, threading his fingers through Michael's hair; the green looked even more fluorescent in the bathroom lighting. "So, _I_ can blow _you_ , and then...you can fuck me." He shrugged after this, like he wasn't entirely sure if Michael would go for it.

"You're literally the best boyfriend ever," Michael said, leaning in for what was unmistakably going to be a kiss. Calum held up his hand between them, placing his index finger against Michael's lips.

"No kissing," he said. Michael sighed, but Calum slid off the sink, landing on his feet in front of Michael before pushing him back against the door and dropping to his knees. Michael's sigh switched to a gasp at the last moment, looking down his own body at Calum pushing the shirt up over his stomach, undoing the button and zipper of his jeans immediately.

Calum tugged Michael's jeans and underwear down around his thighs, one hand resting on the front of his hip, the other holding his dick steady as he wrapped his lips around the head, sucking right away and moving his hand over the shaft to get him hard. Michael looked down at Calum, taking in the sight of him on his knees, sucking his dick; he was already getting hard just from the sight of it, but the things Calum was doing to him helped too. Calum's hand was warm around him, his mouth even warmer, and he let out a shuddering breath, his pleasure apparent in the breathy noise he made.

"Cal," Michael whispered, earning himself a hum in response from the boy on the ground, taking a bit more of his length into his mouth. Calum's tongue was pressing up against the underside of his cock, cradling the head, teasing it over and over and Michael seriously had no idea how he got so lucky to have Calum like him back, much less notice him in the first place.

Michael's upper back was leaning against the bathroom door, his hips bowed forward toward Calum—he was managing not to roll them forward into his mouth, but he also felt like his self-control was dwindling drastically, and he might end up fucking Calum's mouth if he didn't keep his shit together, and he really, really wanted to keep his shit together. He didn't want this to end so soon.

Calum's hand was moving quicker over Michael's cock now, moving in unison with his mouth as he bobbed his head back and forth over him, the head of Michael's dick occasionally brushing the back of his throat, bringing a moan forth from Michael every single time it did. The noises Michael was making, coupled with the weight of his dick on Calum's tongue and the taste of his precome, already had Calum's dick hard in his pants, straining against the zipper of his jeans (which weren't as tight as Michael's, for which he was eternally grateful). He lowered his hand from Michael's hip to cup himself, palming his dick through his pants.

Michael noticed; he licked his lip and cleared his throat, trying to get Calum's attention. "Stop," he said, watching as Calum continued for a moment, but finally stilled his hand, even though it was still pressing against himself, the pressure probably not much but still good. "I want you to come on my cock," Michael said, pulling his hips back a little. Calum tried to follow, but his dick slipped from between his wet lips with a _pop_. Calum looked up at Michael from where he knelt.

"Well, I want to taste you when you come," he said, and Michael thought for a moment that his knees would fail him. "Come on, baby," Calum said, leaning forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Michael's hip, taking care not to bump him with his nose. He wrapped his hand around his cock again, stroking him off slowly. "I know you have two in you." He looked up, smirking, his hand still working over Michael's cock. He let his tongue flit over the slit in the head, and Michael's leg twitched. "Maybe even more."

Fucking _fuck_ , Calum was pushing all his buttons and Michael was completely falling for it. He bit his lip, then nodded down at him. Calum smirked, not even needing Michael to speak—he just continued, moving back onto his cock and swallowing around him. He knew Michael had to be close—his entire body seemed tense, and he was fucking _leaking_ precome onto Calum's tongue; he could taste it every time he swallowed and it just made him more eager to get Michael off in his mouth. He hummed around his cock, pulling off to suck the head, the tip between his lips, his hand working over the shaft, slick with his saliva.

Above him, Michael was whimpering loudly, not bothering to try and be quiet—it never worked anyway, and he liked Calum to know how good he was making him feel. "I'm close," Michael said, his voice breathy. Calum pulled off of him, lapping at the head of Michael's dick for a moment before moving back onto him, looking up and meeting his eyes. 

Michael looked down his body at Calum, the shirt bunched up around his waist blocking most of his view, so he pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, enjoying the unobscured view of Calum's mouth around him. He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself steady but entirely unable.

"Cal," Michael said, whining—he only needed a little bit more and he would be _right there_.

Calum's tongue undulated against Michael's cock, swirling around the head before he took more of Michael into his mouth, moving back and forth onto him until Michael's hands reached for Calum's hair; they tightened into fists in the dark curls as he held Calum's head still on his cock, coming into his mouth. He only had the vague notion that Calum was swallowing down everything Michael was giving him; he could barely concentrate on anything other than how hot and wet Calum's mouth was around him, how good it felt to give him exactly what he wanted.

Michael's body relaxed slowly, and Calum pulled off of him, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looked up at Michael, who smiled, though he still looked a bit like he was coming down from the high of his orgasm. Calum lifted one hand and Michael took it, helping pull him to his feet. Again, he tried to kiss Calum, and Calum had to dodge him.

"No kissing," he said, and Michael groaned.

"I'm taking this thing out, I can't deal with it," Michael said, as Calum turned him and moved him bodily out of the bathroom over to the futon. 

"Don't take it out," Calum argued, kissing the back of Michael's neck.

"I can't even kiss you," Michael mumbled, repeating his complaint from earlier, though this time he sounded a lot more upset than angry.

"You're adorable," Calum said, hugging Michael from behind, arms wrapped around his chest. "But please don't take it out."

"Fine," Michael sighed—though he was actually glad Calum was insisting, because he thought he looked phenomenal with the barbell through his tongue.

"Gonna get me ready now?" Calum asked, moving around Michael and facing him as he stripped the rest of his clothes off. His cock was erect, arching away from his body, and the tip was a bit shiny, precome beading up and collecting at the tip.

"Shit, yeah," Michael said, letting his eyes wander over Calum's body as he removed his clothing too.

“How?” Calum asked, leaning one knee on the futon, waiting for Michael to instruct him how to position himself before moving fully onto the cushion.

“On your back,” Michael replied, crossing over to the dresser, where he knew Calum hid his lube. He pulled open the top drawer and dug around for a moment before finding it. He removed it and turned, taking in the sight of Calum stretched out for him, adjusting pillows behind his head so he wouldn’t end up uncomfortable against the side of the futon. He glanced up as Michael approached, then spread his legs to accommodate him between them.

“Not being able to kiss you sucks,” Calum said, as Michael moved onto the futon between his legs, hands resting on his thighs.

“Tell me about it,” he said, leaning over Calum anyway. He trailed his lips over his torso, placing soft, chaste, closed-mouth kisses on his collarbone, then one of his nipples, all the way down his front until his lips dragged against the front of Calum’s thigh. Michael could feel himself getting stiff again between his legs, but Calum’s cock was fully erect now, laying across the front of his hip, the head a deep, glossy pink. Michael sat on his knees and took Calum’s cock in his hand, moving his palm over his boyfriend’s length slowly, watching as Calum’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted, the shallow breaths he was taking more than enough to indicate that he wanted more from Michael.

“Gonna fuck you,” Michael said, voice low, as he picked up the bottle again and flicked it open. Calum nodded languidly and barely opened heavy-lidded eyes to watch as Michael squeezed some lube onto his fingertips. He pushed Calum’s legs up a little, angling his hips to expose him a bit more, then trailed his index finger over Calum’s hole, unable to keep himself from sighing in sheer lust as Calum clenched against his fingertip, clearly wanting Michael inside of him, even if it was just one finger.

“Easy,” Michael said, and Calum whined in response.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, rolling his hips up, hoping to entice Michael to get on with it already.

In lieu of responding sarcastically, Michael actually listened to him; he rubbed Calum’s hole in small circles until he was able to angle the tip of his forefinger into him, sliding it in slowly. Calum groaned loudly, spreading his legs further for Michael, reaching up to pull them back so his thighs were against his chest. Michael moved his free hand to the back of Calum’s thigh, fucking into him a few times with his finger.

“Mikey,” Calum urged, and Michael obeyed, letting his middle finger move beside his forefinger, moving both of them into Calum. He moved as quickly as he could, scissoring his fingers to stretch him, _needing_ to stretch him because he wanted to be inside Calum probably as much as Calum wanted him there, if not more. Michael’s dick was hard again, ready to fill Calum up and fuck him until they both came undone in each other’s arms.

Calum was taking two fingers with ease, his body ready for more, his hips not rolling upward as much as Calum was bucking them into Michael’s hand, fucking himself on his fingers. He let out a desperate moan and Michael angled a third finger inside of him—he was tight, tight enough that Michael thought he might fucking die once he was inside him, but he kept himself together enough to separate his three fingers, feeling the muscles inside of Calum tense against him.

“Relax,” Michael said, rubbing Calum’s leg, his fingertips tickling over the sensitive skin. “Not too much more.”

“Want you now, Mikey,” Calum said, letting go of the leg Michael was holding up and moving his hand to his cock. He didn’t jerk himself off, but rather fucked up into his fist as he moved his hips against Michael’s hand, over and over.

“I know,” Michael mumbled; he met Calum’s eyes, watching him for a moment before he held his hips down against the futon, slowly pulling his fingers out. Calum licked his lip, watching Michael as he lubed up his cock, slicking himself up and moving closer on his knees, fitting himself in between Calum’s thighs. He reached down, looking away from Calum’s face only to be sure the head of his dick was lined up with his hole, then pushed into him.

Both of them moaned each other’s names at the same time, finally feeling relief instead of the frustration of being worked up with no release. Michael moved into Calum into their hips were pressed together, Calum’s hand still wrapped around his leaking cock, though now the backs of his fingers were trapped beneath Michael’s front.

Michael tucked his face into Calum’s neck, because he knew if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be able to resist pressing their mouths together and kissing Calum hard as he fucked him, both of them encompassing each other in every possible way. Calum wrapped his legs around Michael as he began moving into him, fucking him slow and long and hard and exactly the way Calum loved—Michael’s cock was dragging against his prostate and he knew he wouldn’t last long, especially not with the warm skin of Michael’s stomach dragging over the wet, sensitive head of his dick, too.

“Harder,” Calum whispered into Michael’s ear, letting his cheek rest against the side of Michael’s head, lifting his hips up each time Michael moved back into him. He moved his hand as much as he could over his length, precome streaking all across Michael as they moved together, their bodies moving against each other in all the best ways. Michael listened to the request, snapping his hips forward into Calum and drawing forth loud moans in between the words “Yes” and “More” repeated again and again.

Calum had known it wouldn’t take him long to come, not when Michael was doing everything perfectly, but he still tried to stave off his orgasm for as long as he could. His body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending electrified, especially where he was pressed against Michael, and before he realized it, Michael had snapped his hips forward, the hard length of his dick dragging against Calum’s prostate, and he was done—he came beneath Michael, his hand accidentally smearing his come over his own cock, his hip, Michael’s front. Not that it mattered—the feeling of Calum tightening up around him, and the wet heat between them, was enough to bring Michael right to the edge. A few more thrusts into Calum and his hips were stuttering, his lungs forgetting to take a breath as he came.

Shaking just a little, Calum moved his legs from around Michael, releasing him to move back, though he didn’t, not right away. He nuzzled Calum’s cheek with his nose, whining a little.

“I want to fucking kiss you,” he said, and Calum chuckled a little—he couldn’t help it. Michael frowned. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Calum said, no longer laughing but with amusement audible in his voice. His ass was tight around Michael’s dick; he could still feel him inside of him, and he fucking loved it, fucking adored the boy above him.

“Stop laughing at me,” Michael said, pouting though he wasn’t really upset.

“I’m not,” Calum said, smirking. “You’re just really cute.”

Michael pushed himself up, arms straight, gently moved himself out of Calum, then looked down at him before swooping down to give him a peck on the lips.

Calum laughed again. “Close enough?” he asked, ignoring the mess on their stomachs and pulling Michael back down against him, kissing him on the lips again.

“Close enough,” Michael agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [maybeillfindyouhere](http://maybeillfindyouhere.tumblr.com) • Come say hi!
> 
> _Title from "I'm Lost Without You" by blink-182._


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